


Justice for All

by icandrawamoth



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: X-wing Series - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Dogs, Friendship, Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort, There's A Tag For That, Tycho rushes in, Wedge is everyone's dad, Working Out My Feelings Through Fic, animal cruelty, based on an awful sad news story, mentioned animal death, warning: this fic contains mention of dead puppies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-09 21:37:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12897354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icandrawamoth/pseuds/icandrawamoth
Summary: Tycho is affected by a tragic crime he sees on the holonet news. Wedge isn't sure there's much the squadron can do to help.





	Justice for All

**Author's Note:**

> Look, another weird self-indulgent fic, this time where I work through my response to [this awful news story](http://katv.com/news/local/five-pit-bulls-stolen-from-el-dorado-dog-pound-eight-puppies-killed-in-the-process) I happened to see this morning. I have a process, okay? Also, here's hoping those guys to to jail and/or hell.  
> Anyway, yeah, there's not much solidly here to indicate the time period, but I was picturing it as the comics-era Rogues and kinda going for that feel.

The mission was successful – the squadron is having a run of them, due for the other shoe to drop any day now – but their transport off-planet is delayed. It's not such a big deal, just means they had an extra night before leaving which Wedge's pilots gladly spent touring the local cantinas and generally making themselves a nuisance. He'd managed to head off the worst of it, though, wrangle them into some semblance of calm and get everyone back to their lodgings by the wee hours of the morning.

He's probably the only one who didn't drink to excess, due to his duty as babysitter, which easily explains why he's the only one up this early. He quietly leaves the room where Tycho is still snoring away to get breakfast for everyone (a commander's duty never ends). He buys two dozen pastries from a bakery across the street from their hotel and knocks on doors and yells until he's managed to distribute them to the rest of squadron before returning to his own room.

Tycho has moved since he left: now he's up and dressed and stalking around the room grabbing their belongings and shoving them into their packs.

“I've never seen a hangover make you this angry before,” Wedge says mildly as approaches and offers him breakfast.

Tycho looks up, and Wedge is taken aback, because Tycho's lips are pursed, his cheeks flushed with emotion, but there's also a telling sheen in his eyes. “What happened?” Wedge asks, heart starting to race. He wasn't gone that long. He fumbles for his comlink to check for missed calls, a litany of awful possibilities flooding through his mind.

Tycho stops him with a sigh and a hand on his wrist. “It's nothing like that.” He turns away, continues packing, but he's at least nominally calmer now. He gestures over his shoulder. “I turned on the local holonet news when I woke up.”

Wedge looks at where he's pointing and sees the room's holoplate, quiet now and knocked askew as if someone had bumped into it – or deliberately upset it. “And?” he prompts.

Tycho shakes his head, still turned away. “It's such a small thing, in the grand scheme of what's going on in the galaxy.”

“Tell me.” Wedge hates seeing his friend like this, and he's still nervous not knowing what caused it.

Finally, with a sigh, Tycho sits heavily on the bed and looks at him again. “There was a story about an animal shelter that was broken into overnight. Five akk dogs were stolen.”

“Probably for a fighting ring,” Wedge figures. He knows Tycho is an animal lover, so it makes sense this would upset him. Though, this much... Perhaps really is the hangover. “That's-”

“That's not the worst part.” Tycho stares at his hands where they clench on the legs of his pants and twist fitfully. “One of the dogs was pregnant,” he goes on quietly. “Apparently she was actually giving birth at the time. The thieves left the puppies behind.” A heavy pause. “None of them survived.”

“Oh.” Wedge doesn't know what to say.

Tycho looks up at him, eyes wet and fierce. “There were _pictures_ in the broadcast, Wedge. There were eight of them just lying on the duracrete. One was even outside the fence where the wire was cut open to get the mother out.”

“That's awful.” Wedge's heart twists at the thought, and he hadn't even seen the images. Tycho is right to be upset: the galaxy at large may be in a sorry state, but that doesn't cover up this sort of specific horror. “They have security holos, right?” he reasons gently. “The local authorities will find them.”

“Maybe.” Tycho shakes his head. “But it was hours ago. They could be off-planet already.”

Wedge sighs and pulls himself to his feet, picking up the food and pushing it at Tycho again. “Eat. We'll be off soon ourselves. We can keep an eye out at the spaceport, see if we see anything, otherwise there isn't much we can do.”

“I know.”

Wedge lays a hand on his shoulder. “I'm sorry you're so upset.”

Tycho nods wordlessly and forces himself to take a bite. Wedge searches for more words of comfort but is saved by his comlink signaling.

* * *

It's their transport, and as they meet up with the rest of the squadron and make their way down the street to the spaceport, Tycho is still quiet. Wedge stays close, offering a buffer between him and the rest of the still-rambunctious pilots who either haven't noticed or have decided to give him space. When they arrive, Wedge inquires with the manager about which docking bay they should head to.

He's struggling through trying to understand the thickly-accented answer when he hears something he definitely understands: Tycho's voice yelling “ _Hey!”_ Wedge turns just in time to see the blonde sprinting headlong across the spaceport toward the nearest bay, where a human and Abednedo are loading several large crates onto a run-down freighter. Tycho reaches the stunned men and, before either of them can react, his fist is connecting with the Abednedo's face in a solid _crack!_.

In a moment, Wedge is next to him, hand on his sidearm. “Tycho,” he says evenly, not quite placating but urging him to keep his violence to a healthy level. He already has a good idea what's going on here.

“This is them, Wedge,” Tycho confirms through gritted teeth. His hands are on the Abednedo's shoulders now, shaking him roughly. “The thieves. The _killers_.”

“I know, Tycho.”

At that moment, the rest of the confused but eager Rogues arrive, bunching up behind them and jostling one of the crates – which startles them by letting out a muffled yowl.

“Careful!” the human thief barks. “This cargo is worth more than your lives.”

“I don't know about that, but these dogs are certainly worth more than the likes are you.” Wedge has his blaster pointed at the man, whose eyes go wide as he raises his hands with a curse.

“What are you, police?” he spits. “How did you-”

“Quiet,” Wedge snaps, gesturing carelessly to Tycho. “Or I'll let him at you as well.”

“With pleasure,” Tycho growls, and the man quiets, cowed.

“Rogues,” Wedge says, “someone comm the local authorities – tell them we have a couple of wanted criminals we'd just love to hand over to them.”

* * *

Tycho doesn't accept the reward, because of course he doesn't, and the other Rogues aren't about to argue, though they're all too happy to help detain the thieves once they've heard the story. The squadron gladly sees the men hauled off to jail, then assist with transport the crated animals back to the animal shelter and get them resettled in their pens.

The shelter's owner, an exuberantly grateful Ishi Tib, helpfully points out which dog is the mother when Tycho asks. Wedge watches as he goes into the pen with her, kneeling beside her where she sits quietly in a corner, gently patting her head and scratching her ears and speaking to her in a soft voice.

The Ishi Tib comes up behind Wedge and says quietly, “She still does need a good home.”

“I wish we could,” Wedge tells her, watching the way his friend is so clearly taken with the dog. “But we're not exactly in a position to take on a pet.”

“I understand. I can't thank you all enough for what you've done already. If you hadn't found them...I hate to think what else would have happened.”

Wedge nods, his eyes still on Tycho, who now has his arms around the dog, his face pressed against her. “If need be, we can put out word to some people, help you find homes for them,” he says to the owner.

“It won't be a problem once the news runs the story,” she tells him. “Five stolen dogs saved by Rebel fighter squadron...” Wedge jerks his head to look at her, and she laughs. “We're not all foolish backwater beings here, sir. I know a Rebel when I see one. You will do an interview, won't you?”

“That's not necessary. Your thanks is more than enough for us.”

She bows her head. “As you wish. Does your squadron need anything more from me?”

“No, thank you.”

“Then I've got some work to attend to. Please, stay as long as you like.” The woman returns to her office, and Wedge looks back to Tycho. He's still with the dog, scratching her cheeks as she looks up at him, paws braced on his knees.

“Tycho. Our transport is still waiting,” Wedge says finally.

“I know, boss.” He gives the dog a final kiss on the forehead and stands. “I'm coming.”

Wedge raises his voice. “Let's head out, Rogues.” A chorus of groans greets him as the pilots say goodbye to their new, scaly friends. Then they all troop out, waving goodbye to the Ishi Tib, who waves and and calls her heartfelt thanks yet again.

Conversations break out among the group as they make their way back to the spaceport, half a dozen retellings of their latest fabulous adventure, but by Wedge's side, Tycho is still quieter than normal. Wedge drops an arm around his shoulders. “You did good today.”

Tycho's answering smile is small but there. “It's nice to know that even though the galaxy is still full of evil, the little things are important, too, and we can help fix them.”

“Absolutely right.” Wedge squeezes his shoulder. “I think we can all stand to be reminded of that from time to time.”

 


End file.
